A Courting Of Ice and Fire
by AWriterofIceandFire89
Summary: Like a caged wild bird longing to be free, Lyanna Stark is desperate for a way out of her most ordinary life. A proposal of marriage could be the key, but the man offering the ring isn't to be trusted with her heart. A chance meeting with a noble and handsome Prince during a fateful summer could change Lyanna forever. It would, in fact, change the entire country of Westeros.
1. Chapter 1

The sun rose over the tall and sturdy towers of Winterfell-the cool Northern breeze rustling the leaves of the nearby Weirwood tree as the air floated through the ancient Godswood on it's way towards the North, far beyond the wall. This year was to be known as the Year of False Spring-which made the Northerners chuckle as to them it was either bitter cold winter or slightly warm spring-never hotter and never in between.

The good people of Winterfell proper-those who worked and lived inside it's massive and protective walls-had already been up since dawn. They hustled about, readying the castle for the day and what a day it would be. Eddard Stark-second oldest son to Lord Rickard Stark-was on his way home for a visit from his foster-ship in the Vale with the good Jon Arryn. Eddard was but a mere sixteen but already he held himself as that of a man.

Eddard, or Ned as his close family and friends called him, was on his way home to Winterfell, not only for the purpose of a much needed visit, but he also carried a parcel on his person that was addressed to his father. Ned was being fostered alongside the heir to House Baratheon, Robert Baratheon. The two had become fast friends and now were like brothers, even though each had their own siblings to contend with.

Robert, who was now Head of House Baratheon after a terrible tragedy that killed both of his parents in a shipwreck, had always been there for Ned and helped the younger lad when he had shown up in the Vale. The boys had become inseparable-Robert had even accompanied Ned home to Winterfell the summer before and that was where Lord Robert first saw who he deemed to be the love of his life.

Lady Lyanna Stark of Winterfell had always been described as a great Northern beauty. With long deep chestnut brown hair that curled around her soft and pale features, lips that stayed a deep pink and would deepen to a robust rose red color in the winter-Lyanna was a great beauty. There was more to her, however-there was a wildness that longed to be tamed and Robert knew upon first seeing the wild wolf girl that he would be the one to tame her.

Ned could only smile to himself-Lyanna was all Robert could be heard talking about over the past year and yet that didn't stop Ned's greatest friend from warming the bed of a Vale tavern wench and now he had a bastard daughter to remember her by. Ned loved Robert and he knew that a marriage between his loud and lewd best friend and his sister would be a great political match. Which was his reason for arriving home to Winterfell.

Kneeing his horse forward, Ned's smile only grew as he crested the hill and before him sat the beautiful and mysterious Winterfell castle. A large grey stoned building, with walls surrounding it on all sides and a large oak gate the for now stood open. Winterfell was the Northern most steadfast against the Wildlings that lived beyond the wall and in the forests just between his home and the legendary fortress. His father Rickard was known as the Warden of the North-the great protector of the people and someone to be feared.

A loud clanging could be heard from inside and Ned could only imagine that his eldest brother, Brandon and his youngest sibling Benjen were in the courtyard, close to the armory, sparing with dulled swords. The breeze that had seemed to follow him North from the Vale ruffled Ned's hair as he passed through the large gates and nodded his head to the guards before pushing his horse over the thick wood of the drawbridge.

Ah home-at least for a fortnight before Ned was due back at the Vale. People were milling about in the courtyard-mostly women of the castle hanging up laundry and linens to dry while the men worked to repair armor and weaponry before the summer began. The wood of the drawbridge gave way to ancient flagstones, half buried in dirt from years and years of foot traffic. Winterfell was old-one of the oldest and greatest keeps in Westeros and sometimes it showed it's age.

To Ned's right came the gate to the Godswood-a place that Ned would find peace and quiet as soon as he made his way over to the horsekeep. Something caught his attention however as Ned entered the main courtyard and as he looked towards the two figures dodging around and slashing their swords at one another, he could not help but shake his head disapprovingly.

It was not Brandon and Benjen who he had heard practicing on his way in. No, instead Ned stared down at his sister, Lyanna, as she spared with little Benjen. The girl, wild in her movements, had donned a pair of his old breeches, tying the top with a bit of rope to make it so they would not slide down her hips. Lyanna was but a mere fifteen and yet as Ned observed her he couldn't help but think that she fought like a man would.

Loud grunts escaped her mouth as the girl dipped and dove around her younger brother and Ned again only shook his head before disembarking from his horse and coming up from behind his sister. One arm wrapped around her slim waist, while Ned's free hand grabbed the sword out of Lyanna's right hand. He picked her up, kissed her on the cheek and swiftly let the now outraged girl down on to her feet.

"Ned! How dare you interrupt us!" Lyanna said, her hands resting on her hips and for a moment Ned only saw their mother, Lyarra, standing before them. Lyanna had their mother's eyes-as did Ned-grey and capable of striking down a person with only a mere glance.

"Yeah!" Piped up Benjen, a young twelve year old who, like Brandon, favored their father. Both boys had lighter brown, almost auburn hair and Benjen had somehow managed to get blue eyes instead of the usual Stark grey.

"Oh come on Ned-they were only having a bit of fun!" Someone called from behind him and Ned only sighed heavily as he whirled around and found his eldest brother Brandon standing on the bridge above them.

"Fun until Lyanna chops Ben's arm off." Ned stated seriously, but the corners of his mouth twitched up in to a slight smile. Ned was the most serious out of the four and honestly he liked it that way.

"I would do no such thing! Really Ned did you travel all the way up from the Eyrie just to spoil our fun?" Lyanna smirked at her older brother as she tried to reach around him to grab her sword out of his grasp. Ned only held on tighter and smiled down at his younger sister.

She looked so much like their mother-thin face, thin frame, but there was a fire that burned in her eyes. Lyanna was referred to as wolf-blooded by their father-a trait that he claimed she and Brandon both got from their mother. Ned was much like Rickard-hard eyed and serious tempered. Lyanna was tall for a girl-the top of her head nearly reaching under his chin and yet she moved with such grace. She wasn't a Southern beauty by any means, but Lyanna's spirit and giving heart made her a great beauty among the people of the North.

"Actually I came for a quick visit and I have something to discuss with father." Ned said as he handed the sword back to his sister and made his way off towards the Great Keep.

"Such as?" Lyanna asked, her sword forgotten as she nipped at his heels. Benjen stayed behind, a loud clanging noise coming about as he continued to practice against the metal post in the corner of the yard.

"You'll find out soon enough." Ned said, smiling as Lyanna only stuck her tongue out at him and wove her arm through his. They were best friends, only just under two years apart in age and Ned had to keep himself resolved to not tell Lyanna the news he brought before they saw their father.

The siblings grew silent as they entered the Great Keep, the stone walls with the heated spring water running behind them a welcome sight to Ned's eyes. Torches lit their way, their boots clicking against the rough flagstone floor as their shorter and lighter Spring capes swished around their shoulders, the edges flicking against the stone walls. It was the music of the North and something only a true Northerner could appreciate and miss.

The pair took a left and found themselves entering the high ceilinged room where their father did most of his business. He sat at a long rectangle table, the massive wood top covered in parchment documents that their father kept looking over one by one as he mumbled to himself. Rickard Stark was a busy man-he had a small city to run and the entire North to protect and watch over.

Westeros had been lucky-their winters had been short and it was believed that a long summer was on it's way in, which would prove good for all involved.

Ned and Lyanna stood before their father, watching silently as he moved around documents and stood still as he murmured something to Maester Walys before finally looking up and acknowledging that two of his four children stood before him. Ned stayed silent, but noticed that their father was staring right at Lyanna, one eyebrow raised in disapproval as he took in her leather breeches.

"Eddard-home from the clutches of Jon Arryn. How was the ride home my son?" Rickard asked as he stood, his hands on his hips as he stretched his aging back before embracing his second son with the hearty clap on a shoulder.

"It was good father-warm and only a hint of winter chill as I reached Moat Cailin. It seems winter had finally left us." Ned said as he looked at his father and then off towards his sister. Lyanna was only standing there, her hands held together behind her back as she took the men in with silent reverence.

"Lyanna-my dear girl-I think it would be more proper for you to head off to your chambers and don something a little less like something Benjen would wear. We'll be dining soon..." Rickard said with a smile on his lips but his stone eyes said much, much more.

"Of course father." Lyanna said, bowing slightly before turning on her heel and disappearing around the corner.

It wasn't fair! Lyanna was the only girl in the entire castle-why did it matter if she looked presentable or not? Instead of walking off towards her chambers, Lyanna crouched low, staying out of sight but within earshot of what Ned and her father were getting ready to discuss. It was odd that Ned would return home out of the blue-no raven sent and it wasn't yet summer, which was usually when the serious faced Stark showed back up. It was milder in the Vale, which was the summer home to Jon Arryn, warden of the East.

Lyanna could barely hear what they were saying, but she perked up at the mention of her name. It wasn't clear though, but her heart was racing as she could swear that she heard Ned say something about marriage. That was the very last thing Lyanna wanted-it was the farthest thing from her mind at her age and honestly she didn't understand the need to be married off. Brandon was to be named Lord of Winterfell when the time came-any reason for Lyanna to wed would only serve as a political move.

The voices stopped and Lyanna began to move off towards her chambers as she heard the clicking of boots on the stone floor. She didn't want to be caught-if there was anything her father hated more than her wearing breeches it was the fact that Lyanna was a terrible snoop. Suddenly both Ned and her father rounded the corner, their heads together as they kept speaking of things that she longed to be privy to.

One thing Lyanna noticed was the long scroll of parchment that her father clutched in one hand, the scratchy writing too poor for her to make out at such a long distance. If she really were to be married off and the handwriting was anything to go by from her future betrothed-Lyanna was certain that she was to marry a man of little patience and impulsive actions.

With a huff and a turn of her heel, Lyanna did as she was told and headed off to her chambers where she would dress for dinner and only hope and pray to the Old Gods that she was mistaken in what she heard the two men discussing in hushed tones.


	2. Chapter 2

The Great Hall was where the Starks had always taken their meals-the huge space echoing with emptiness as the family was not entertaining guests at the moment. Instead of sitting at the high table atop the long platform, the five Starks were seated closely together at a table to the left of the platform. The high ceilings hung with their house sigil-a Grey Direwolf on a white background, something that their father Rickard took great pride in.

Starks were known around the North as being wolves in disguise-Brandon and Lyanna were whispered about and it was claimed that they could turn in to wolves at will. Instead the four siblings and their father were all laughing merrily as Ned spoke of his time with the loud and boisterous Robert of House Baratheon. Ned had brought Robert to their home the summer before and Lyanna, as she sipped her wine from a stone goblet, couldn't help but wonder if the dark haired and light eyed warrior would make another appearance on their doorstep once more this coming summer.

Lyanna was not fond of Robert-at least not in the way that he was fond of her. The giant man-for he was nearly six and a half feet to her just little over five and a half-had followed her around all summer long, laughing at her jokes and applauding her as she rode circles around he and Ned on their many outings. But Ned had been too forthcoming with information and Lyanna knew that Robert liked two things in life-women and the drink. It was not a proper way of living and while Lyanna wasn't a proper lady, she knew when a man was willing to disrespect his relationship and take to another woman's bed.

It had even been rumored that Robert had already fathered a bastard-a small female child that many said would grow to look just like him. All Baratheon's-much like the Starks-looked the same. Dark, almost black hair that curled and looked unruly most of the time, with severe light blue eyes that sparked when they got angry and truthfully they were angry a lot. _Ours Is The Fury_ -the house motto for the clan Baratheon and Lyanna wondered if it was true.

House Baratheon-stationed at the legendary Storm's End which lay just south of King's Landing-was known for their anger and the three brothers proved it true time and again. Robert-the eldest-was now Head of House Baratheon, much to the dislike of his younger brother Stannis. Stannis was not known for much besides being incredibly serious at such a young age, barely a year younger than the elder Robert. The youngest and from what she had heard from Ned the friendliest brother was Renly, barely five years old and yet an incredibly happy and easy tempered child.

Lyanna, lost in her thoughts, was barely paying any mind to the conversation until her name came out of Ned's mouth. Her eyes, grey and reflecting just a hint of the firelight from above, connected with that of her brother's and Lyanna swallowed the piece of bread that she had been chewing. All eyes were on her and she said nothing and could only look back at them and fold her hands in her lap.

Lyanna-forever the constant disappointment and proof that girls should be raised by mother's-could only bare a small smile as her father cleared his throat before addressing her.

"Lyanna, dear girl, Ned has brought back some exciting news from his time in the Eyrie." Her father said simply and Lyanna could only stare, first at her father and then she chanced a look towards her brother and best friend.

Ned's face held a look of utter apology, as if he already knew that what he had to say was going to either devastate her or make her anger surge like a great tide. He reached towards her with one hand, the rough skin of his finger tips grazing the top of her creamy looking skin. Lyanna was a great pale Northern beauty of a girl and Ned knew that with the growth of one more year she would be much desired by many Northern men and their sons.

The Starks were a powerful family-well off and connected to the King who sat on the Iron Throne. King Aerys II Targaryen was a powerful man and lucky for the Starks they were in his favor. Not high on his list, but the Mad King usually left them be up here in the North. Lyanna had only heard bits and pieces of the King-she knew he had an older son who was described as being roguishly handsome. His name was Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna only rolled her eyes at the mere thought of him.

A Prince, riding around on a pure white horse in his fancy armor-she doubted he could even hold a sword correctly. Of course there was another child to the King-Viserys, who was but a small four year old blonde thing that was said to run around the ankles of his beloved older brother. The Targaryen's were known for many things-their white blonde hair, lilac eyes and their ancient ability to tame and ride large beasts called dragons. The dragons had all but died out at this point and Lyanna found it sad to think about.

To ride a dragon-that would be an adventure of a life time, but sadly it would never happen.

"Lyanna? Are you listening?" Lyanna's head snapped up, her thoughts broken as her father spoke to her, his tone stern and full of warning. She merely nodded and looked towards Ned's, signaling for him to continue.

"Robert Baratheon has proposed a great joining of our Houses..." Ned began and Lyanna could only snigger and hide her mouth with her hand. She looked up, her face growing grave as she realized what her brother was saying.

"You mean me..." She said, not questioning her brother, but reaffirming what she already knew.

"Yes. Robert says here in this letter than he fell deeply in love with you last summer on his visit and would like to have your hand in marriage. It would be a good alliance for father and Robert would make a good husband to you, dear sister. I really do think this is for the best..." Ned stopped as Lyanna held up a hand and looked over at her brother.

"Enough. Obviously this has already been decided. I'm sure you all just can't wait to ship me off to Storm's End where I'll probably wash away in to the great sea." She spat and then huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at her brothers. Benjen was playing with his food, completely disinterested, while Ned could only look down at his hands, the forgotten scroll having rolled back up in to its tight curl. Brandon, across from her at the table, could only smirk and sneer, his hands behind his head as he stared her down.

"I don't know what you're smiling about boy-you'll be married to the eldest Tully girl come fall of next year." Their father said and Brandon looked as if someone had let all of the air out of him.

"Father...w-when was this decided?" Brandon asked, now sitting straight up and looking as pale as a bucket of fresh milk.

"Whilst you were out with the Ryswell girl. Catelyn Tully will make a good match for you-a Southern girl to keep your wits about you once you become Head of House Stark." Rickard stated and Brandon tried and failed to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

"But father she doesn't even believe in our God's-how do you expect her to stand beside me as Lady of Winterfell if she is a believer in The Seven?" Brandon exclaimed and Lyanna only rolled her eyes. Brandon, if their father would allow him, would rather never marry and would instead like to traipse back and forth between Winterfell and the nearest tavern.

"Neither does Robert! How can I be expected to marry a Southern man who probably will have very little regard for my believes in our Gods?" Lyanna chimed in, hoping that if she jumped on Brandon's bandwagon that their father would come to his senses.

"Am I going to marry a heathen Southerner?" Benjen asked, finally seeming to pay attention once their voices were raised high enough. Rickard Stark grew so red in the face that his coloring almost matched that of the blood red color the Lannisters used in their banners.

"Enough all of you! Brandon will marry the Tully girl-build a sept on the grounds if you must. Lyanna-you will marry Robert Baratheon and you will learn to mind your tone. I'm sure Robert will find a place suitable for you to pray to the Old Gods down in Storm's End." Their father sounded exasperated and the two siblings only huffed as they grew silent and sullen.

"Benjen...eat your food and stop picking at it." Rickard threw in there and Lyanna noticed how he had nothing to say in the ways of Ned. Was Ned to not be married off at some point? Would their father send him to the Wall to join the Night's Watch since Brandon was the heir to Winterfell?

"I'm not going to marry a Southern girl...no I am not." Benjen said before stuffing his mouth full of food. He was a such a brat, but Lyanna loved him so.

"You'll marry who I tell you to. Now let us enjoy our dinner before it gets cold and then it's off to bed. Ned said you three were going to go riding tomorrow and I'm sure you could use the rest." Rickard said, ending the conversation as he sipped at his wine and the other's grew silent.

Lyanna barely touched her food and as her siblings, one by one, finished and rose to leave the room, there Lyanna sat. Her grey eyes stared off in to nothing and as her father got up to leave, he could say nothing to her and only pat her shoulder and place a soft kiss to the top of her head. She wanted to scream, to cry-she wanted to hit something. Instead she continued to sit there, waving off a dish girl as the poor maid tried to clear the table and avoid upsetting Lyanna further.

She couldn't marry Robert-she wouldn't and it was as simple as that.

Except Lyanna wasn't foolish and she knew her father well. Rickard Stark was a hard man-a hard man for the hard and harsh environment he lived in-but he loved his children. Their mother had died when she was young and Lyanna barely remembered her at this stage in her life. Her father had wanted her to grow up to be a proper lady, but Lyanna was too wild-too Northern-for such things. She was like a caged bird-too wild to be tamed and too smart to stay caged for long.

Lyanna continued to sit there, watching as the wax from a nearby candle dripped lower and lower towards the table beneath. She really should retire, but she feared what would meet her in her dreams. Would it be Robert-standing at the head of a long aisle, waiting for her to come and join him? Or would it be the dream she had most often-of her being chained up and held there until the day she no longer breathed on this Earth?

Coming to stand up, Lyanna nearly jumped out of her skin as she saw a figure approach her from out of the shadows.

Ned-the sneak.

He approached her, but Lyanna only lashed out, beating her fists against his chest as hard as she could as the tears got caught in her throat, preventing her from crying out. She was so cross with him-the brother who betrayed her and sealed her fate to forever be linked with the unfaithful Robert Baratheon.

"Hate me all you want sister-it wasn't I who made the final decision. I only delivered the message." He said quietly in to her hair. Ned had pulled her close, her arms and hands pressed tightly against his chest between them so she could no longer beat him with her tiny and delicate hands.

"I'm sure you had a say-Robert is your best friend and I your only sister..." She said, her voice venomous and rage filled.

"Lya, I know the thought of Robert sickens you, but I swear that he is a good man." Ned said and she only scoffed before looking up and locking her grey eyes with his own.

"Will he be faithful to me? Will he share his bed with me and me alone? I think not dear brother. Word travels and none have been too kind when speaking of Robert Baratheon." She spat at him before pulling away and stalking off towards her chambers.

Ned was left standing there in the dying light, knowing full well that he had sealed his sister's fate and that she was absolutely right. Robert was his best friend and he loved him like a brother, but Ned also knew that Robert came with many flaws and being faithful was his greatest one of all time.

A/N: Hey everyone! Just wanted to pop in and say I hope those who are reading this have enjoyed it so far. I would love some reviews to let me know if you like everything, so please feel free to leave me a lovely message!


	3. Chapter 3

The trees were silent-the birds within them were still as Lyanna sat beneath the giant Heart Tree in the very center of her home's Godswood. The wood had been there for centuries and Lyanna had always been taught that this was the place for reflection-this was the place to figure things out. So there she sat, her ankles crossed as she perched on a large rock under the tree, the crimson leaves reflecting in the large pool of water before her.

Lyanna loved this place-it was the one place she could go and never feel judged. A place of solitude and silence-a place where she could reach out to the Old Gods to help her find her way.

It was mid morning of the last day before Ned was to leave to head back to the Vale-back to Robert Baratheon with their father's reply. It was a yes-yes Lyanna would wed Robert and of course she would be more than delighted and honored to become Lady of Storm's End. The mere thought of it made Lyanna heartsick and in the stillness of the morning she wept.

Not simply because she was marrying a man who would never be faithful-but also because she was being forced to marry someone at all. Lyanna longed to be free-a bird able to spread her wings and fly off at a moments notice. Not just a bird-a great dragon, confident and able to fend for itself. One to be feared and looked at with awe and wonder. Lyanna sighed, her hands folded in her lap as her storm blue dress spread out around her in a wide circle.

Now she was in dresses-no more breeches and no more sword fights with Ben in the Courtyard. Rickard had finally put his foot down-Lyanna was to be wed and she was going to learn to be a proper lady...whatever that meant.

With a sigh Lyanna looked up, tilting her chin towards the sky as she took in the bright red leaves of the ancient Weirwood tree. This had been the spot that her parents had gotten married and this was the spot that Brandon would marry Catelyn Tully. Ned would probably marry here as well...even Benjen when he grew old enough.

But not Lyanna.

She would marry a Southern man, with Southern beliefs and they would be married in the Church of the Seven. Being married in front of a Weirwood tree was sacred to the people of the North-it meant a great deal as any promise or vow made in the presence of one meant that it was to be taken very heavily. Robert Baratheon would never marry her in the sacred Godswood because she knew that he would never want to keep his promises.

For the entirety of his visit home, Ned did nothing but apologize to her and try to convince Lyanna that marrying Robert wouldn't be as bad as she was imagining it. Alas Lyanna knew that they were only words and she also knew that Robert would never be truly faithful to her. She wasn't sure how she knew exactly, but it was just a feeling that Lyanna had, deep in her very core.

How she longed to be free-to ride, to fight and to just be herself.

If Lyanna could choose her own fate-she would ride away from Winterfell and find herself in some small village off the King's Road. Somewhere that no one knew her, or of her family and where she could do the things that she liked. Getting up late, lying about to devour a book for a good hour or so and then rising to put on breeches that fit so that she could ride her beloved horse Snowmaiden. A pure white mare that her father had gifted her two years before and it was as if she and the horse were one in the same.

Lyanna was a lot of things-stubborn, impatient and quick tempered-but she was an excellent rider. She had no fear when riding Snow-Lyanna would jump over the highest fence and run Snow in to a wild gallop that sent the girl's long chestnut hair in to a banner like motion behind her. Wiping about in the wind as Lyanna laughed, breathless, and just enjoyed being able to live free, even for a few moments.

She would not be free much longer-her future was set and Robert held it in his hands as firmly as he did his trusty war hammer. Brandon would marry Catelyn the following year and come the spring after that Lyanna would be wed. Would her wedding be beautiful? Would she shed a tear as she walked towards Robert? Thoughts pinged around in her head, distracting Lyanna so that she barely even noticed that someone else had joined her in the Godswood.

Leaves rustled beside her and soon Lyanna, who had been staring at the ground, saw a pair of very familiar worn brown boots.

"Brother." She said simply as Lyanna looked everywhere but at Ned's face. She knew he was sorry, but she couldn't find it in herself to forgive him.

"Lya, please don't be cross with me..." Ned said, pleading as he reached out to touch one of her hands. Lyanna said nothing as she moved her hand out from his reach and continued to stare straight ahead of them.

"Sister you know this wasn't my doing. Stop being so stubborn." He said, adding that last bit because he knew she wouldn't stand for him calling her names.

"Stubborn? Me being stubborn?" Was all she could say because anything else that would pop out of her mouth would make her father lose his temper if he heard about it.

"Yes! Yes Lyanna _you_ are being stubborn! I don't understand why you are so put off by the idea of marrying Robert! He's a good man..." Ned stopped himself. His voice had risen to a tone of being incredibly loud and angry-neither of which belonged in the peaceful and serene Godswood.

"...He's a good man who will love you and be able to provide for you..." Ned finished, his voice only just above a whisper and it was then that Lyanna finally looked at him.

Her eyes-the beautiful grey orbs that held so much fire and life in them-were brimming with tears and her cheeks grew red and splotchy as she reached up and wiped at the tears that had already started to fall. Ned could not understand his sister-most girls swooned when they saw Robert-tall, broad, with dark roguish features and hair but his brilliant blue eyes were always crinkled in the corners due to his loud and boisterous laughter. Why was Lyanna so utterly devastated at the thought of marrying a man that most girls would kill to even be looked at by?

"He is a man who will warm the bed of any women who would look twice at him. Ned do you not understand what I would be giving up by marrying not only Robert, but anyone at all?" She asked him, her words weak sounding as she was still crying softly while they sat there.

"I-I suppose I don't." Ned admitted and then reached down for her hands. Lyanna allowed him to take one, her small hand looking childlike in his strong grip. When had Ned grown up? When had her older brother turned in to the man sitting before her, looking as if he wanted to kill the thing that was making her weep?

"No, no you wouldn't. You, Brandon and Benjen will never understand what it's like to be a girl...to be married off to the highest bidder just so that your father and your family can get ahead in the game. You will marry some pretty girl, who will give you pretty children and you'll be able to move about as you please..." She said, taking a breath before continuing.

"I am to be married off to a man who would have me tamed- _caged_ -so that I can be his pretty wife and give him pretty children. I will sit by and watch as he flirts with the kitchen girls who pour his wine and it will be I who goes to our cold bed, tossing and turning during the night hoping that he'll eventually make his way home. I will raise our children while he hides his bastards. I will die, sad and feeling as if I never truly lived and he will die a happy man in his bed, surrounded by his pretty wife and grown children who were raised to love him and call him a great man. No Ned...no you wouldn't understand at all."

This left him speechless and all Ned could do was to sit beside his sister, wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close. Ned held his sister tightly as she cried and truthfully he couldn't blame her for her devastation. Men in Westeros had very easy lives-they grew up, they either owned land or they didn't, they got married and raised children and then they died-passing on their land and titles to said children. Women were used more politically-to form House alliances and sometimes they were married off to keep bloodlines cleaner.

Families often married within themselves-cousins belonging to different Houses would often be married to one another, just so that alliances stayed stronger. There was one family-the Royal Targaryens-who often would marry siblings to siblings and aunts to nephews. It was said that was how they kept their blood the purest of all and it was the pure blood that had allowed them to keep control over dragons for hundreds of years.

The dragons had died off long ago and yet the Targaryens still refused to muddy the bloodline.

"Dear, sweet Lyanna...I had no idea this was how you felt..." Ned knew of little else to say to make her feel better and it was obvious by the look in her eyes that what he had uttered had been little comfort.

"No one asks me how I feel or what I want. Father is beginning to see me as a breeding mare and nothing else. What is he getting out of my marriage to the Baratheons anyways?" She asked and Ned stopped. He wasn't quite sure how to answer...

"I truly don't think father feels that way Lya...he loves you more than any of the rest of us." Ned said, evading the last part to her question as he did not want to speak the truth in fear of hurting her further.

"Don't step around the question Ned-what is father getting out of my marriage? It's not property...gold perhaps? Or maybe access to the Baratheon fleet..." She guessed, one eyebrow raised as she locked eyes with her brother.

"I-I don't want to say. Lyanna please don't do this...it'll only make things worse." Ned said and Lyanna huffed as she suddenly stood and began to pace back and forth around the Godswood. So much for peace and serenity.

"Ned you must tell me! _Please_..." The last part was a whisper and Lyanna looked on sadly as her brother stood, took her hands in his and pressed his lips across the tops of his fingers. He was protecting her, but from what?

"Sister-you are nearly a woman. You are blossoming every day and truth be told it has not gone unnoticed by many..." Ned croaked. This was completely uncomfortable and entirely inappropriate.

"Spit it out Ned!" Lyanna hissed and then her face grew soft. She could tell that this was hard for her brother to speak on...obviously it must be something terrible.

"Father is worried that no one else will be willing to wed you Lya..." He finally said after a moments silence and Lyanna only looked at him. She was gutted to think that no one would want her, but also she would become accustomed to being the old maid of Winterfell.

"Because I'm wild." She said, her voice serious and Ned only nodded.

"A wolf girl difficult to tame. Robert is willing to try and so we shall let him...those were father's words." Ned said and Lyanna only shook her head.

"He won't treat me well Ned...you know he won't." Was all she could say before Ned placed a finger to her lips, silencing her.

"I swear to you Lyanna, in front of our ancient Weirwood tree that I will never let him hurt you. I would kill him if he did so. I promise Lya...I will always be there for you." They hugged in that moment, their argument forgotten.

Lyanna knew Ned meant what he said, she only wished she could see in to the future to find out if he would truly keep his word. The word of the honorable Eddard Stark.

A/N Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter3


	4. Chapter 4

The wheels of the carriage bumped and slammed over the dirt surface of the King's Road and Lyanna, who was stuck inside, could only wonder that if this was the King's Road then why was it so poorly taken care of? Lyanna, dressed in a lovely deep blue silk and brocade dress, was forbidden to ride her horse Snowmaiden with the boys along the road towards their destination at Harrenhal. It had been a year since Lyanna had last seen her older brother Ned and she felt an emptiness in her heart at his absence.

They had not parted on the best of terms the spring before-for he had come home with the sole purpose of giving a proposal of marriage to their father from Robert Baratheon, the Lord of Storm's End. Lyanna had wanted anything but that, however her father had sent Ned back to the Vale with his answer and she was to wed Robert in the coming spring of the following year. Brandon, their eldest brother, was to marry Catelyn Tully at the end of the summer.

Thankfully the summer had been long and wonderful-the temperatures in their home of Winterfell had been mild and tolerable. Now the family, with the men riding their horses while Lyanna remained stuck in the carriage, were on a long journey from home towards the legendary Harrenhal, House of the Whent family. The Whent's had decided to hold a large Tourney in honor of the glorious summer and the prizes being offered were grand enough to bring forward over a hundred knights-Brandon Stark among them.

Lyanna had begged her father to be able to attend and while the eldest Stark was unsure if the environment was suitable for a girl, Lyanna had convinced him. This would be a good chance for Lyanna and Robert to get to know one another before their wedding and at the mention of that Rickard Stark had changed his mind. It made Lyanna sick to her stomach to think of being around Robert for ten long days, but she would do it to be able to be in attendance at the Tourney some were saying was a once in a lifetime event.

Their traveling party, which had met up with Ned and Robert once they got close to the Vale, was almost to Harrenhal and Lyanna was dying to get out of the carriage. It was hot, stuffy and incredibly bumpy-not to mention the fact that she hated being cooped up. Robert had been riding next to the carriage, keeping pace so that he was beside her window and he spent a good amount of time regaling her with his great battles and fights around the Vale.

Lyanna found the topic and Robert himself terribly dull and she also rolled her eyes at Robert's ability to be terribly long winded when it came to talking about himself.

Suddenly their caravan seemed to have come to a stop and excitedly Lyanna stuck her head out of the window, only to be disappointed to find that they were a ways off. From the looks of things it seemed as if they had hit a bit of a roadblock of carriage traffic-it was said that over a thousand people were flocking to Harrenhal for this amazing event. Knowing that sitting here was going to make her even more agitated, Lyanna decided she needed to act.

Rickard Stark had allowed Lyanna to bring Snowmaiden, as there would be some opportunities for the ladies in attendance to go riding with one another, and so the pure white horse had been hitched to the back of the carriage Lyanna was riding in. Quickly and without drawing attention to herself, Lyanna pushed open the carriage door, swung from the bottom step and hooked her left foot in to a stirrup before reaching down and unhooking Snowmaiden from the back of the carriage.

The horse whinnied as Lyanna settled and then kneed the animal in to a quick gallop, riding past the now empty carriage and her father, who had been riding just ahead of her. Lyanna got Snow off of the road and on to a soft bit of grass that lined the left side and the girl only laughed as she whipped past both Benjen and Brandon, who were at a slow walk on their own horses. Up ahead Lyanna could make out three figures on horses-Ned, Robert and the great Jon Arryn.

"Lyanna Stark!" She heard Ned call after him and Lyanna only smiled to herself. She rode past them, her hair whipping around her head and all she could hear was the wind and what she could only guess was Robert's booming laughter at her actions.

Ignoring the calls for her to stop and get back in to the carriage, Lyanna rode Snow past many carriages holding fine southern women with their ladies in waiting. She also passed many knights who had come to stake their claim and make a name for themselves at the tourney. Lyanna knew there would be whispers about her, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

This was what she wanted out of life-to be free and to feel the wind whip her hair about her face, making her cheeks sting as if she was being lashed for being so free spirited. While most people riding horseback down the road towards the great castle were doing so at a leisurely pace-Lyanna kept Snow at a gallop, although she had slowed as the road narrowed and became simply one way in and one way out. The carriages were taking up the most space, but as she passed the wooded areas surrounding the road, Lyanna noticed that some had stayed put and were currently building camps in the small clearings.

Of course not everyone could stay inside of Harrenhal, so to her it would make sense for some probably lower born knights to make camp outside of the walls. Honestly it was probably better that way-they could come and go as they pleased and not worry about being bothered. Even now as she slowed Snow in to a canter, Lyanna could see that some men had finished their camps and were sitting around small fires, laughing and drinking from the flasks at their hips.

Lyanna and her family would be housed inside of Harrenhal, although thinking of it made Lyanna shiver. Parts of the castle were still beautiful and magnificent-a true testament to the craftsmanship from eons ago. Other sections of the castle showed it's dark past-harkening back to when a great battle raged outside of it's doors and dragon fire was used to take the castle by force. Great towers had crumbled or were half standing, their insides charred beyond use or recognition.

Bit by bit the castle had been rebuilt, but the terrible past of the land would remain there forever.

As Lyanna was rounding a bend in the road, the great castle loomed just in the distance, taking her breath away as she observed it's massive size. Most of the knights competing in the tourney would be housed there, along with their families and squires. Lyanna felt a shiver run down her spine as she edged Snow forward, but stopped as she heard yelling coming from her right.

There, under the dense cover of the trees, nearest to an outside wall of the large structure, were four boys and it seemed as if they were in a scuffle. As Lyanna neared them, she could plainly see that it was three against one and the one was losing the fight in a devastating way. Lyanna, not one to stand for any form of injustice, closed the distance from herself and the boys as she urged Snow in to a wild gallop and then reared her to a stop just twenty feet from the shouting boys.

Not boys-men. Grown men.

Lyanna jumped down from her horse, her blood boiling and she could feel her anger coming to the surface as she watched three grown men push around another man whom was probably around Ned's age. Looking around her for any form of a weapon, Lyanna's grey eyes locked on to an abandoned tourney sword, probably one that one of the attackers had dropped in the chaos. She wielded it as if it were a long sword and quickly smacked one of the attackers behind his knee as his back was towards her.

"Hey!" The man shouted out as he spun around and his mouth fell open as his eyes rested on his assailant.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Lyanna screamed at them all as she moved to point the sword at another one of the attackers. The man whom they had been assaulting remained on the ground, a cut on his forehead gushing blood as he stared up at his unexpected savior.

"Don't worry about what we're doing! We're teaching the crannogman a lesson!" The biggest man shouted at her, approaching her but keeping a great distance as Lyanna kept the sword pointed at him.

"That's my father's man you're attacking and I demand you stop this at once!" Lyanna said, keeping her head held high as she moved towards one of the men. His eyes grew large as the very tip of the sword grazed his chin.

"I won't fight with a girl-s'not proper." One of the three said before dashing off to where Lyanna could only imagine his campsite was located. The other two stood their ground, shifting from one foot to another, but suddenly they too dashed off.

Lyanna smiled to herself as she dropped the sword and reached out a small hand for the injured man to take. She helped him up, her smile brightening as she finally recognized the outnumbered man before her-Ser Howland Reed from Greywater Watch. The man dusted himself off, wincing as the gash on his forehead seemed to pulse with his every movement. Lyanna bit down on her lip as she rooted around in a hidden pocket and finally pulled out a square piece of cloth.

"I thank you kindly Lady Stark." Howland said as he took the square from her and pressed it to his skin. Lyanna only nodded her head, sighing as she noticed that her three brother's had caught up to her and were jumping off of their horses as they ran over.

"Lyanna! What do you think you're doing?!" Brandon called out to her as he was the first to reach the two of them standing in the small clearing. The carriages had started moving once again, which meant her father would make it up to them in no time.

"I came across those squires beating on Howland Reed and felt that I needed to step in. He was completely outnumbered." Lyanna said, setting her chin in a defiant manner as she faced off to her eldest brother.

"You could of been seriously injured!" Ned said, finally speaking up as he took them all in. Howland looked worse for the wear, but it probably was due to Lyanna's quick thinking that he wasn't injured more gravely.

"And yet here I stand! Perfectly fine!" Lyanna said as she looked around at them all. They were standing in a wide circle and her brother's couldn't help but give her small smiles.

"I do owe you my lady. If it weren't for you they would of beat me so that I was unable to compete tomorrow. I should be going...I need to clean myself up and get some rest in preparation for tomorrow's joust." Howland spoke as he gave Lyanna a small bow and turned to walk away.

"Oh won't you be coming to the feast tonight?" Lyanna asked, stopping Howland in his tracks. He only looked at her and smiled a half hearted grin.

"Feasts are for highborns. I may be a knight and heir to Greywater Watch, but Reed is not the name of a highborn son." Lyanna only shook her head, walked over to the taller man and linked her arm in his.

"I absolutely insist that you come tonight-as my guest. Now come along-Ned will help you get ready and I expect to see you later on. You owe me a dance for saving your neck!" Lyanna said, laughing so loudly that her head was thrown back and her long chestnut hair fell down her back in a great dark wave.

The small group headed towards the castle gates, speaking in loud and excited voices about that evenings feast. Lyanna, in that moment, had no care in the world and she knew that while people were watching her and observing her behavior, she knew it didn't matter.

If only she would of known that one person in particular was watching her from above in a high tower and as he watched her fight three men and then laugh it off as if it were nothing, he found himself very intrigued with her. He sat at the window, vowing silently to himself that he would meet the wild girl who seemed without a care in the entire world of Westeros.


	5. Chapter 5

The smooth silk of the maroon curtain beneath his fingertips slid from Rhaegar's grasp as he turned from the window, a small smile playing on his lips. The girl below, who had been completely unaware of who was watching her-not that she seemed to give much care either way-had fought off three grown men in the defense of a fourth man and Rhaegar found himself intrigued. What kind of person would come up to a group of people and join in on a fight in defense of someone they didn't even know?

Rhaegar knew of few men in his life who would do such a thing-let alone a woman who looked to be no older than sixteen or seventeen years of age. And yet she had stopped and she hadn't just stood there yelling at the three-she had picked up what seemed to be a tourney sword and held it as if she knew exactly what to do with it. He then watched as the men fled, possibly back towards their camps, and then the girl and injured man were joined by a few other men.

Watching as they all spoke loudly to one another and then Rhaegar smirked as the brave girl linked an arm with the injured fellow and led him in to the castle gates. It had been an interesting distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. Quickly though Rhaegar would have to refocus on the task at hand-for it was a complicated and incredibly dangerous one. Rhaegar was currently meeting, in secret, with his father's small council to talk about the possibility of overthrowing the Mad King.

Rhaegar loved his father-Aery's the second-but it was true what the common folk were claiming...his father was slowly but steadily losing his mind. It was becoming obvious and dangerous, as the King was now demanding things from people that were either unspeakable or they were incapable of finishing the task. Rhaegar had watched over the past two years as his father began to slip in to madness, muttering under his breath to 'burn them all' or 'end it all'.

He'd had no idea what it meant at the time, but now Rhaegar could see that his father needed to be stopped and a more gentle and sane king be put in his place. Which meant Rhaegar himself, as Prince of Westeros, would take his father's place as his rightful heir to the Iron Throne. It was a pity as Rhaegar wanted to do so many things in his young life and ruling was not one of them. He found it boring and tiresome and most of all he felt trapped- _caged_.

"Your thoughts my Lord?" Someone spoke to him and Rhaegar could only shake his head, his long silver blonde hair coming loose in his eyes as he looked around at them all.

In attendance were some of his father's most trusted men- loyal Jon Connington, Qarlton Chelstedand lastly Wisdom Rossart. The only one not in attendance was the Hand of the King-the mighty and most feared Tywin Lannister. Rhaegar had hoped that the great Lion would make an appearance as his son, Jaime Lannister was to be knighted in to the Kingsguard that very evening. However the Lion had not appeared yet and this troubled Rhaegar.

He would need as much support from the Small Council as possible and the best way to get their support was to have the support of Tywin Lannister. As of now the three older men were bickering as Rhaegar sat on the window ledge, watching the people below him pass through the gates. That night there was to be a grand feast-where he would attend alongside his father and without his wife Elia.

Rhaegar loved Elia-his dark haired Dornish beauty of a wife-and they were best friends, but her health was troubling to him. They had one child-a dark haired daughter Rhaenys-and Rhaegar loved his little family. But he was not in love with Elia and he never truly had been. They were best friends and as close as they could be, but her ailing health and Rhaegar's desire to be free was something that held him back from truly loving his wife the way that he should.

Elia was a timid woman-quiet and contemplative before speaking and that, honestly, bored Rhaegar a bit. He wanted someone with a fire in their eyes. Someone who would challenge him and make him feel as if he were a lesser man. Elia had been raised in Dorne and she was raised as a highborn Dornish woman, which meant that she kept her place and did not speak on her opinions. They had the best of times together, but with the stresses of her complicated birthing to their daughter and the whispers that she would not bear him another child, Rhaegar felt his heart ache.

Rhaegar bit down on his lip as he pushed those thoughts from his head and looked towards the men sitting before him. They needed to act...

"I propose a usurping. I'm aware that none of you want to take part in the overthrowing of the Iron Throne, but my father is not well. I trust that you men can understand when I say that it is vital that we have a ruler on the Throne that can lead the people of Westeros on to the right path. We've had a mild and long summer-the Maesters seem to think it could last us another six months, but who knows what could be at the end of it..." Rhaegar mused as he pushed his hair out of his face with one hand and looked at them all seriously.

"M-my Lord?" Jon Connington sputtered and Rhaegar only flashed the group his roguish smile and they all chuckled.

"Do I have your support gentlemen?" He asked of the collected group and they all hesitated. Without the say of Tywin Lannister, nothing was going to be accomplished.

"Prince Rhaegar, we are behind you fully. However without the opinion of the Hand, we must admit we would rather wait. Tywin should be a long in a day or two. Let us reconvene once he arrives..." Wisdom Rossart explained and Rhaegar could only nod his head.

He understood their hesitancy, but it frustrated him at their lack of trust in his word and opinion.

Rhaegar was seen as many things-handsome, a warrior and a Prince-but there was one thing people never seemed to notice about him and that was his keen sense for leadership. Rhaegar had grown up watching his father rule over Westeros with a firm hand-too firm in many cases-and Rhaegar noticed how the people of their grand country feared his father, but little respected him. Many of the commonfolk in King's Landing had come to know and respect Rhaegar and that was because he respected them.

Few things in life filled the Prince with joy, but music was among those few. Rhaegar would often don his harp and walk the streets of King's Landing, performing for the people and making their days just a bit better with his songs. Oft times when Rhaegar would make money from his songs, he would give back to the orphanages or to the starving people who would flock to watch him play. Accompanied by his good friend and fellow knight Barristan Selmy, Rhaegar felt as if he truly could make a difference.

Yet when it came to the end of things, the Small Council would still see him as a Prince-someone who would eventually take over, but who had little knowledge of the world beyond that.

"I understand. Come-leave me to get ready for the feast this evening and we shall reconvene once Tywin makes his grand entrance." Rhaegar said with a smile as he held out his arms and rose to usher the men from his private chamber.

Soon enough Rhaegar was left to himself and as he took his seat once again at the window-this time harp in hand-he couldn't help but let his mind wander back to that lovely maiden he had watched moments before. She had laughed, loudly and as if she hadn't a care in the world and as he sat there thinking back on her, Rhaegar found himself incredibly jealous.

If only his life were so easy and carefree.

Instead he was inundated with the likes of politics and the stress of not having a son to take on the great Targaryen name. It was no fault of his wife's, but as Rhaegar sat in the window and allowed his mind to wander and his fingers to idly pluck at the strings of his harp, he couldn't help but wonder if this maiden he saw could be the answer to all of his woes. Perhaps some of her carefree ways would rub off on him? Perhaps she would make him laugh and just this once that laugh would reach his eyes?

Alas it couldn't be-he was married with a child and there were expectations of him as a Prince.

Sitting there on his own, Rhaegar closed his eyes and continued to pluck at the strings of his golden harp. Singing brought him joy and as he sat there and thought of the wild girl who had entered his mind and his heart like a stampede, Rhaegar sang the saddest song his lips had ever uttered. 

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates-I've been really sick with a head cold and it's kept my brain in a fog. Also I know some people have expressed a desire for these chapters to be longer-in a Word document they are already four-five pages long. I don't want to make them too long as I write my stories to be around fifty chapters give or take. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave a review.


	6. Chapter 6

The Great Hall was filled with what felt like a thousand people-the roar of many voices and laughter alone made Lyanna feel as if she were lost in a great sea. Her family was seated at a long wooden table and Lyanna was seated between Ned and Benjen, with Brandon on the other side of Ned beside their father and then Howland Reed, the man she had saved earlier that day, was sitting on the other side of Benjen.

Even though it was her family, in some ways Lyanna felt very trapped and caged in in that moment.

The feast had begun with Jaime Lannister being knighted, his father Tywin and twin sister Cersei standing by proudly as he was given a golden cloak of the King's Guard and then sent on his way, surprisingly back to King's Landing. Most had thought the young knight would stay and compete in the Tourney, but it seemed as if the King had other plans. Now they were all seated, enjoying the last remnants of the feast before small groupings would form and people would either chat or dance.

Lyanna knew she would be forced in to a dance with Robert, who was seated at the table right in front of them and kept looking at her from over his shoulder. They had only a few moments together without her brother's or father hovering and Lyanna had held her tongue through all of it. Robert was nice and he seemed to genuinely have feelings for her, but Lyanna found his talk of battles, horses and his prowess dull. Perhaps that sort of chatter worked on the barmaids and wenches in the taverns along the King's Road, but for Lyanna it was pathetic and boastful.

Breathing deep-for she had to take as few breaths as possible as Lyanna had been strapped in to a beautiful but very tight dress that made it very hard to breathe. Her dress was of a dark grey material-almost so dark that she imagined if she wanted to vanish all she need do would be to stand in front of the stone walls of the castle and it was embellished with a dark blue pattern that many stated complimented her eyes.

Lyanna was miserable, bored and feeling sluggish after all of the food and the single glass of wine that her father had allowed her to sip on through the evening. Benjen had also been given a glass, but he took one sip, scrunched his nose and refused to touch the remainder of it. Lyanna was tempted to sneak his glass and replace it with her empty one so that she could drink until she felt numb, but too many eyes were watching. Including a pair of deep indigo ones that she had not expected.

The Royal Family-which only consisted of the King and his eldest son Rhaegar-were seated at the highest table, overlooking them all as they supped and talked amongst themselves. The first time she had caught his eye Rhaegar seemed to be observing her shyly, almost as if he didn't want her to catch him at it. Lyanna thought little of it, until she happened to glance up and caught him openly staring at her. His long nearly white blonde hair was pushed back, the ends of it curling down towards his shoulders and when she caught him he only smiled, nodded his head and looked away from her.

Why would he stare at her? Lyanna couldn't help but wonder this throughout the evening, but she knew that her silent question should remain that way-silent and unanswered.

Finally it seemed as if everyone had finished eating and Lyanna sighed with happiness as that meant she could soon vanish back in to her chamber. However just when she thought all was said and done, Lyanna looked up to see that Rhaegar had left his seat beside his father and was now sitting on the ledge of the platform his table was on with a small golden harp in hand.

Was the Prince going to perform for them?

Lyanna felt herself sit up straighter in her seat and soon enough her ears were filled with a soft melody that made her heart ache just a fraction. Rhaegar sat there, strumming the strings of his harp as his voice rang out in the now silent hall and Lyanna felt herself captured by the sincere heartbreak in his voice. The song was one of his own writing-at least that she could tell-and it quickly brought a tear to her grey eyes.

The Prince sang of a woman, so beautiful that she was desired by many and yet that very woman felt trapped by all of the things given to her in life. As Rhaegar sang and he sang very well, Lyanna felt a connection form between them and she felt in her heart that if anyone in this room understood her-even just a little bit-it seemed that the Prince was that one soul among many. Too soon for her liking the song was over and Lyanna reached in to her sleeve to pull out her handkerchief to dab at her eyes.

"Lya please tell me you aren't blubbering like a babe at that stupid song." A voice spoke out from beside her and Lyanna whipped her head to find Benjen rubbing at his eyes and laughing at her tears.

"Oh shut up Ben!" Lyanna whispered harshly, hoping that no one had heard her brother's teasing.

"Typical...Lyanna you'll cry at anything!" Ben said more loudly this time and Lyanna felt her temper flare. She said nothing as she reached for Ben's still full glass of wine and then swiftly turned it upside over top his head and smirked at the red liquid splashed down his face and on to his lap.

"Lyanna!" She heard her brother Ned say and Lyanna only smiled unashamed as she rose and then looked ahead of her. She wasn't sure, but Lyanna could of sworn that Prince Rhaegar had seen the entire exchange and was now smirking at her besting her younger brother.

Soon enough the dancing began and Lyanna found herself being swept in to the arms of her betrothed Robert Baratheon. He spun her around, her dress swirling around her ankles as the lively tune played on from a small dais on the right of the King's platform. Lyanna looked around her, Robert's words drowning in her ears as she tried to see where the Prince was. He couldn't be spotted and with disappointment Lyanna tried to tune back in to the man holding her a little too tightly.

"I really do think you'll love Storm's End my lady-it's a bit cold at night but we'll have plenty of time to warm eachother up." He was saying and Lyanna jumped at his loud laughter to his own crude joke. Robert was a lot of things, but being a gentlemen wasn't among those attributes.

"Oh Robert..." Lyanna said, plastering a small smile on her lips as she looked up at him and their eyes connected. His eyes were very blue and always crinkled in the corners from laughter, but when her grey eyes met his-nothing happened. They just stared at one another silently for a moment.

"Are you alright my lady? I didn't step on your foot did I?" Robert asked and for once Lyanna smiled a genuine smile at him.

"No-no you didn't. I only fear that my being homesick for Winterfell once I arrive at Storm's End will make you dislike me..." Lyanna said. It was only a half truth-she would be sick for Winterfell and for her brother's, but she worried not about how it would make Robert feel.

"Ah well, I'm sure with some time you'll grow to love my home at Storm's End and will make it your own." He stated simply and Lyanna bit down on her lower lip.

"Do you have a Godswood there my Lord?" She couldn't help but ask and would silently judge Robert on his answer.

"A small one left over from a time since passed. However my lady if you would like to cultivate it and make yourself a peaceful place to retreat to I would have no objections." Robert said with a sweet smile. Lyanna knew he would not deny her, but she hesitated to believe him fully-only time would tell.

"Thank you my Lord-the Godswood at Winterfell in very important to me." She stated and felt her heart beat rise to her throat as they stopped dancing and he led her over to a more quiet and secluded area.

"I'm well aware my lady-Ned spent many hours in the Godswood in the Vale when we were boys and he oft spoke of the one at your home." Robert said as he leaned up against the stone pillar behind him and crossed one arm over his massive chest while his other hand held hers tightly.

"So you're okay if I still pray and pay respects to the Old Gods-the ones who mean the most to me?" She asked, her heart beating a thunderous rhythm as she waited for his answer.

"I do not mind my love. I won't always agree with your believe in them and I will insist that our children be brought to know the Seven, but you may worship as you choose...in private." He added the last bit on quietly and Lyanna felt her heart stop.

In private-which in her mind meant that she could have a Godswood, but no one could know about it or be taken there. At the mention of children Lyanna felt her stomach turn and she could not explain why. She loved the small children that ran around Winterfell and she had adored Benjen as a small boy before he gained the ability to speak with such a sharp tongue. So why would Robert mentioning children make her feel so ill? Could it be that it was because they would be children she would have with him? Possibly.

"O-of course my Lord." Lyanna said, her face even keeled as to not reveal her true feelings. Robert disgusted her-he played the part of a great and understanding man, but she knew deep down that he was out for his own pleasures and his alone.

Robert smiled down at her-picturing her as the dutiful wife that she would one day become once he broke her of her wild nature. As a young girl it was perfectly fine for Lyanna to run about on horses and defending strangers from getting their wits beat out of them, but as a Lady of Storm's End Robert would see to it that Lyanna learned her part to play. She was beautiful and lively-his true hope was that she would be just as lively in their chambers as she was in front of a Royal Court.

"Ex-excuse me my Lady, but may I have this next dance?" Someone had walked up to him and just as Robert was about to tell the lad off, Lyanna spoke up.

"Sir Reed! Of course-I did say you owed me a dance after saving your neck today! Come, come..." She said, leaving Robert to stand there as she walked off with the Crannogman Reed. Robert felt a sour taste rise up in his throat as he watched his Lyanna swirl around in the arms of another man.

Robert crossed his large arms over his chest as he leaned back and watched Lyanna dance. She was so full of life and so joyous at every turn-a complete opposite from her elder brother and his best friend. Robert knew that Lyanna would make a good wife-dutiful and loving-and he was hoping she was just as Ned was in the ways of honor. Robert liked many things in life, but he loved only a few-his war hammer, taverns and Lyanna Stark. He would probably never give up any of those things, but he expected Lyanna to bend to his will all the same.

"Don't look so brooding-the best part of this entire event starts tomorrow." Someone said from beside him and Robert only smirked as he looked and saw that Ned had joined him.

"Watching your lovely sister dance with another man makes my blood boil Ned." Robert said as both men watched as Lyanna danced without shame-her long flowing brown hair fall down her back as her head was thrown backwards in a roar of laughter.

"You'll be the only one to dance with her soon enough Robert." Ned said, seeing that watching the dance before them really did have Robert bothered.

"Will I Ned? I know I'm not one to talk but just look at her-look at how she is..." Robert said and pointed off towards Lyanna. She was still dancing with Howland and Ned noticed that she looked much happier and at ease dancing with the Crannogman than she did with her betrothed.

"Robert I don't think you have anything to worry about...truthfully Lyanna is incredibly excited to marry you come next year." Ned said, hoping that his tone would put Robert to ease. His best friend was so hot tempered and easily riled that Ned wasn't sure how the Lord of Storm's End and his sister were going to survive a marriage to one another.

"We'll see Ned...we'll see..." Was all Robert said before storming off towards the back of the room near the door to the kitchen.

Ned watched him go, sure that Robert would take out his aggression on some poor kitchen girl and then pass out drunk until morning. Instead of following his best friend, Ned stood by and watched as Lyanna danced happily, finishing her dance with Reed before taking the hand of some knight from a small house that had been eyeing her all evening. There was no harm in it...

...at least not yet.

A/N-thanks again for all of the reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

The dancers swirled around the hall and Rhaegar smiled as he watched fabric from the ladies skirts swirl around their ankles as they were spun by the men they were dancing with. The feast was coming to an end-his King father had already departed, muttering something about 'pointless tradition' before disappearing around the corner towards his lavish chambers. Rhaegar was not interested in dancing himself, although if his wife Elia had been present he would of at least been expected to take her out for one or two rounds.

No, what Rhaegar was interested in was the girl, who not too much earlier had wept at his song and then dumped her wine atop her brother's head as he teased her for showing emotion. That girl was now dancing with a slight man and the both of them were laughing at how badly he moved her around the floor. The Prince took in the girl-she couldn't be older than sixteen, but she held her shoulders proud as if she were a man of twenty or more. Her brown hair was a chestnut wave that curled on the ends and instead of braiding it intricately like many other ladies of the Court, this wild girl let it flow freely down her back and around her shoulders.

Silently Rhaegar watched her, watched as her grey eyes filled with glee at another dance and watched as she threw her head back in laughter as her new partner stepped on her foot. She seemed so carefree-so willing to be in the moment and Rhaegar found it intoxicating.

"Who is that _girl_..." He asked aloud, not expecting an answer but jumping as the man beside him leaned in and spoke softly in his ear. It was one of the Whent sons, a short man of nineteen who had been trailing around after Rhaegar all day.

"That's Lady Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, my Lord." The man said and Rhaegar smirked. A Northern girl-he shouldn't be shocked then at her wild abandon of tradition at Court.

" _Lyanna Stark_..." He said, rolling her name around on his tongue. It flowed out of his mouth as if it were a song and somehow Rhaegar knew that the name fit the girl perfectly.

"Yes my Lord. She has accompanied her Lord father and brother's here for the Tourney. Brandon Stark, her eldest brother, is competing in the coming days." Rhaegar smiled at this information but kept his eyes on the dancing girl. He grew dizzy watching her spin around and yet he couldn't take his eyes from her.

"I've heard of Brandon Stark-some say he is a great swordsmen and an even better jouster. I'll enjoy seeing him on the field tomorrow. But of Lyanna-she seems lively for a girl." Rhaegar mused, playing a verbal game of cat and mouse to get as much information out of the Whent boy as he could without seeming too interested.

"Lyanna is known in the North as the She-Wolf. She is wolf blooded and wild-not surprising she's betrothed to the loud mouthed Robert Baratheon. Rumor is that he was the only one willing to have her-no one is willing to try and tame the wild Northern Wolf that is Lyanna Stark." Rhaegar felt his heart grow sad at this-who would feel the need to tame such a brilliant and bright girl such as Lyanna?

"Yes, well it's nice to know about some of our Northern brothers and their families. Hard to keep up with them as they never seem to be interested in coming South to King's Landing..." Rhaegar said as he turned on his heel and faced away from the dancing group. The Whent boy only laughed, a high and shrill laugh that was laced with fakeness and flattery.

Rhaegar said nothing more as he kept his back to the dance floor and made his way off in to the deepest part of the castle towards his chambers. He knew that by now his wife, Elia and their daughter Rhaenys, had arrived and were more than likely already a bed. Walking down the long hall, Rhaegar got lost in the sounds of his boots clicking against the rough stone floor, while his mind was filled with nothing but the dancing girl.

Why was he so fascinated by her? She was nothing more than a lively Northern girl who seemed to love dancing and protecting strangers from men with a dull tourney sword. It had taken him some time, but as the Prince watched the girl dance, he realized why she seemed so familiar. It had not been but earlier that day from his chamber window that Rhaegar had become distracted by watching a girl fend off three knights in defense of a wounded man that had been outnumbered.

It all made sense now-the girl had been Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar knew from his reading that the Starks were many things and lived by many creeds and honor was among them. Lyanna had seen that man being attacked and Rhaegar knew it must of been in the very core of her being to stop and assist him. Rhaegar had always secretly admired the Starks and their Northern people. He had read about them and their ancestor Torrhen Stark-known now as the King Who Knelt-who had kneeled before his own ancestor Aegon during the great conquest. It was this that showed how the Starks truly were-more concerned with honor and doing the right thing than fighting until the very end.

Torrhen knew he would never defeat Aegon and his dragons and instead of putting his people in danger, he knelt and history was made from that.

Rhaegar sighed as he reached the heavy wooden door to his chamber and closed his eyes as he pushed it open and entered. Elia was already in their bed, but she was awake and sitting by candle light waiting for him to return. She looked sickly-her usual glowing skin was tinted with a sallow color and her deep brown eyes held the look of exhaustion in them. Elia was a beautiful woman and when they had been married she had been so full of life, but once she had become with child that life and her inner light had dimmed.

Birthing their daughter had weakened Elia and the Maesters were unsure if she would ever be able to carry another babe to full term. This had saddened Rhaegar-for many reasons-and it also concerned him greatly. He believed in a lot of things and something he held close to him was a prophecy spoken to him long ago. A prophecy about a prince that was promised and the dragon having three heads. It could mean a lot of things, but in Rhaegar's mind it meant that his children-specifically a son-would rule the world of Westeros like none had before him.

However with the health of his wife declining and being so poor, Rhaegar was unsure of the accuracy of the prophecy that he clung to so tightly.

"How was the feast?" Elia asked, sitting up slowly as he entered and closed the thick door behind him. Rhaegar said nothing at first as he made his way across the room, sat in a chair by the hearth and began to remove his boots.

"Very official. Father did not stay long of course and I watched as the dancing started and then made my way back here." He said, his deep indigo eyes not looking at his wife but instead they locked on to his sleeping daughter in her cradle near the fire. The small girl looked just like her mother-dark hair, olive skin and full lips that the Dornish usually had. She had his eyes however-a dark indigo that were soulful and filled with a longing to know everything.

"Did you not wish to dance with anyone? No pretty girls in attendance?" Elia teased him, smiling playfully as Rhaegar sat before her and looked up as he pulled his boot from his foot. They had a strange relationship-Dornish women were not afraid of having their husbands take another woman and to Rhaegar that thought was strange.

"Plenty of beautiful maids dancing around the Hall, I was just not in a mood to join them." Rhaegar said before pulling his shirt up and over his head. He was tired-it had been a long day filled with headache inducing talk that had gotten him nowhere.

"Something is troubling you." Elia said, her tone growing dark and concerned. Her brow was furrowed as she took Rhaegar in-his usually gentle features were strained and his pale skin was flushed as if he'd been running.

"Of course something is _troubling_ me. The mind of my father twists more and more every day. I had hoped he would not venture out to this event, but he is here and I am worried of what he might say." Rhaegar stated as he pulled back the heavy covers on the bed and joined his wife beneath them.

"What does the council say?" Elia asked, moving so that she was turned on her side, looking at him as her dark hair cascaded down like a great curtain.

"They want to speak with Lannister first. I understand their worry-an uprising would be most unwise, but I see no other choice." Rhaegar said as he leaned up against the pillows and looked beside him. Elia was leaning on one arm and listening to him intensely.

"Are you ready to be King my love?" Elia asked him, reaching out a finger to trace a scar that marred the pale flesh of his arm.

"I am ready for my father to no longer speak of the insanity that plagues his mind. I have no real desire to become King-you know that." He stated and Elia only nodded.

While they were not much of a loving married couple-Elia and Rhaegar were the best of friends. Both had been pushed in to a marriage with another and while they had yet to find a true love in it, they had instead found a beautiful friendship where Rhaegar felt entirely comfortable telling his wife everything that he felt he needed to say. She never judged him-she merely would sit, listen and then give him her opinion. Rhaegar felt, however, that sometimes her opinion was polluted by her duty as a wife and was sometimes not a true form of what it could be.

He wanted someone true-someone who would look at him and call him a fool and not worry about the consequences. Rhaegar wanted someone unguarded-someone who was not plagued by the worry of what other's thought, would think or what they would say. Elia was his best friend, but after almost two years together, Rhaegar feared that that was all she would ever be and he needed something more.

"How does the joust fair for tomorrow?" Elia asked, changing the topic as quickly as possible. Rhaegar was a kind man, but he could grow serious and morose and Elia always did her best to keep their talks light hearted.

"It should be an interesting first day. There are many talented knights here and I will enjoy watching them all try and best one another." Rhaegar said and Elia only looked at him.

"I had thought that you would be among those knights in the coming week my dear Prince." Elia said as she placed a hand on his bare shoulder and rubbed the scarred skin. Rhaegar was very much a feared and respected knight-one that many wished to fight and take down to prove their worth.

"I'm mulling it over my Lady. How was your journey today? You look as if you've fallen ill." He said and even though her skin was a darker olive color than his own, Rhaegar could tell when his wife was blushing.

"It was a bit bumpy once we reached the King's Road. I'm sure my illness will pass soon enough." She said and reached up to place a small kiss on the side of his face.

"I only want to make sure you are taking good care of yourself. Not just for me but for our child." Rhaegar said and he couldn't help but notice the disappointment on his wife's face as she pulled back and looked at him.

"I assure you my Lord I will be just fine. Shall we sleep? I know there are many things that must be done in the morning before the Tourney is to begin." Elia said as she ran a thumb across his bottom lip and smiled softly at her husband. She wanted to end the discussion of her health before it turned in to a fight neither of them would win at this hour.

"You're right my love. Goodnight." Rhaegar said as he moved to place a soft kiss to his wife's lips and also placed one on her forehead for good measure. They shared a smile before Rhaegar leaned towards the table and blew out the candle that sat on top.

Rhaegar laid in the darkness, still and unwavering as he listened to Elia's breathing go from steady in a state of being awake, to serene and peaceful as she fell to sleep. Rhaegar himself could not sleep and by the light of the fire still burning in the hearth, he rose and moved to a chest near the door to grab for a deep red dressing robe. He slipped his strong arms through the sleeves and found himself walking towards the window.

Taking a seat on the ledge he had been occupying earlier in the day, Rhaegar glanced through the window and out through the trees. The sky swirled with grey plumes of smoke from the dying campfires and the moon, huge and full, hung low in the night sky. It was a wide world out there and Rhaegar could only imagine what it would be like to explore it. He had never been North to the Wall, although he remembered traveling to Winterfell as a very young child. He had never been West or really even South to Dorne-he had always been at either Dragonstone or in King's Landing.

Rhaegar longed for many things in his life and above all it was freedom that he could barely seem to grasp on to and hold in his strong and capable hands.


End file.
